


Danger Zone

by Lmj21



Category: Archer (Cartoon), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Crossover, Drinking, Drinking Games, F/M, Fennec Fox, Flemeth - Freeform, Flirting, Humor, Implied Relationships, Jealousy, Nugs!, Slight Skyrim cameo, Sterling loves animals, The Eluvian, UST (Cullen/Inquisitor), Underwear gun makes an appearance!, Wee baby Seamus, Wicked Grace, archer v cullen rivalry, for now just build up, may get steamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-14 18:25:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3420974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lmj21/pseuds/Lmj21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love Archer?<br/>Love the Inquisition?</p><p>Kreiger somehow (don't ask) lands Sterling Archer right outside the gates of Skyhold. Scout Harding stumbles across him and assumes he must be an assassin, he is brought before the Inquisition for judgement. Despite their combined expertise they've never encountered anyone quite like Archer before (has anyone?) and struggle to work out what to do with him...although the Inquisitor has a few ideas.</p><p> (Only rated teen due to some in character swearing and implied sex)</p><p>NOW COMPLETE!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Judgement

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably a little bit nuts but I love both of these worlds so much, thought it would be fun (and challenging) to bring them together.  
> Hope there's at least one other person out there who would love to see Sterling Archer annoying the hell out of Cullen.
> 
> First chapter, the judgement (I intend for 4-5 chapters in total)  
> ***UPDATED - 10 Chapters in total*****
> 
> Please enjoy :)

“Apologies Inquisitor, you’re needed in the Main Hall.” The Inquisition leaders looked up from the world map as the messenger entered.  
“Is everything alright?”  
“Scout Harding’s captured someone outside the keep. We think he’s an assassin.”  
“Impossible, an assassin wouldn’t be able to get this close to the keep without my knowledge.” Leliana sounded confident but her frown betrayed her concern.  
“But he is definitely alone? You did say he?” Cullen intervened. The messenger giggled a little, a blush visible above the collar of her armour.  
“Oh yes. Ahem, I mean, yes he is definitely a he, Commander.” Cullen rolled his eyes as he and the rest of the Inquisition leaders swept out of the room.  
Whispers filled the hall and the Inquisitor found her place naturally on the imposing throne, her advisors taking their places around her before she took a deep breath and faced the offender. She had been judging prisoners long enough to be able to conceal any disgust or remorse she may feel but was unprepared for having to swallow down a quick surge of arousal. She now understood why the messenger had blushed earlier. Standing before them, nonchalantly chatting to the guards, was a ridiculously handsome man entirely clad in black. He looked Tevinter, although he had no outward signs suggesting the usual wealth. When the group realised that the Inquisitor was now waiting to begin judgement, they carefully pushed the stranger to his knees. He briefly objected, pulling out a nug from his jacket to avoid it being squashed, before acquiescing and looking expectantly toward the throne, seemingly unfazed by the ornate display of power.  
“Inquisitor, this will be difficult to judge. We have had no time to prepare, perhaps we should simply listen to what this intruder has to say…” Josephine began, attempting to create a sense of order from the peculiar tone of the event.  
“Intruder? Hey, I didn’t step foot inside this crazy theme park until you dragged me here!”  
“You will have time to present your case stranger.” Josephine soothed. Her lilting voice and dark eyes were not lost on the stranger, who raised an eyebrow as he glanced at her appreciatively.  
“Is that a promise?” The guards either side of him nudged him to draw his attention back to the trial unfolding around him.  
“Very well.” The Inquisitor gave a small smile. “Scout Harding, you were the first to apprehend the prisoner?”  
“Prisoner? What the shit, I was just an intruder literally a second ago.”  
“Intruder then. And hold a civil tongue in your head.” Cullen barked at him. Cullen’s temper didn’t improve as the stranger/prisoner laughed and shook his head a little.  
“Inquisitor.” Scout Harding began, drawing the proceedings on “I was patrolling the perimeter with a small scouting party and we observed as this man approached.”  
“Could he see you?”  
“We weren’t hidden, but no, no I don’t think he noticed us, he seemed preoccupied.”  
“With what?”  
“Well, it seems a little…silly, but as we watched we could see he was chasing or at least tracking something. We took cover, and waited until he was close before apprehending him.”  
“Did he resist?”  
“Umm, no actually.” Scout Harding blushed now. Cullen’s frown deepened at the alarming frequency of the blushes occurring in the room. “He seemed happy for me to take him.”  
“Phrasing.” The stranger interjected. He looked around for some approval or acknowledgement. Finding none, he hung his head again and busied himself with petting the nug that was still nestling against him.  
“And we brought him straight to you, the only bit of trouble we had was when we suggested he leave that pest outside.” Harding continued, gesturing to the nug.  
“What the shit is this anyway, a pig baby?” The stranger asked, holding it out for inspection, Leliana gasped when she saw it more clearly, noticing its tiny collar. She ran forward to scoop it up from the stranger, who briefly objected before allowing her to take it. As she did so, the Inquisitor answered him.  
“A nug.”  
“A pug? Did you shave it?” For the first time since his arrival the prisoner began to look angry.  
“Why would I shave Schmooples?” Leliana cooed, petting at the now purring creature in her hands.  
“Because apart from the fact that it could clearly benefit from a little fur coverage to break up all that pink…”  
“I didn’t…”  
“…It seems a little irresponsible in this snowy wilderness to just, you know, shave a pug and throw it out into a blizzard….”  
“I didn’t shave it!” Leliana’s voice finally raising above his.  
“Phrasing.” The stranger laughed again, this time a couple of spectators giggled along with him. “But seriously, does it have alopecia?”  
“Could I intervene here to return to the matter in hand.” Said Josephine, placing a hand on Leliana’s shoulder.  
“Could you?”  
“It wasn’t a question.”  
“It sounded like a question.”  
“Enough!” The Inquisitor bellowed over the now almost maddening muttering and giggling of the onlookers.  
“Ok, I arrived at your…your….medieval ski resort and rescued a mutant pug.” The stranger said, facing the Inquisitor, happy to comply.  
“Nug.”  
“Exactly. So why exactly am I in trouble?”  
“Why indeed. Why would you just appear here, no clothing or documents to identify you with a specific ally or faction? I hope you can understand why we would be suspicious.” The stranger shrugged at the Inquisitor’s words. “So, Inquisition, what do you make of this prisoner?”  
“Assassin. He is operating alone, wearing black…” Josephine suggested.  
“Slightly darker black actually. At least, I think it is, it’s really difficult to see in this light. What are you idiots using, whale oil?” He seemed to be addressing the guards who gave him slightly bemused looks.  
“I’m not sure that he is an assassin. His papers state his name as ‘Sterling Archer’. Which would suggest that he is a hunter.” Leliana offered.  
“A hunter?” The stranger laughed.  
“Why is that funny?” She snapped her head up, still not forgiving his slurs against her beloved pet.  
“What? Unless I came all the way out here to hunt hairless freak pugs then I guess I’d be wasting my time.”  
“Do you not also hunt lions and wolves and bears?”  
“Oh my!” He retorted mockingly, before his brain caught up with his mouth and he realised what she’d said. “Oh my, I mean, seriously you have lions and wolves and bears here?”  
“Do you not?” Cullen asked, seriously intrigued now as to the stranger’s origins.  
“Well, Manhattan’s not really known for its roaming hordes of apex predators. Except cougars.”  
“Really?”  
“Sure. She knows what I’m talking about, right?” He winked at Vivienne who sneered back at his familiarity.  
“So if you’re not here to hunt, we can go back to assuming you are an assassin and figure out for who.” The Inquisitor was determined to solve this now before her entire party took against him.  
“First of all, I’m not an assassin. Well not today, not exclusively. I mean, you’re safe. Second of all, it’s whom. And third of all, seriously when can I see these wolves, lions and bears?”  
“When you say ‘not today, not exclusively’, I assume that working as an assassin is something you are at least familiar with?” Continued the Inquisitor, completely ignoring the second and third points.  
“Well, duh, but usually I’m preventing the assassinations. Shit, why am I even telling you this, you’ve already taken all my documents? You can see it for yourself.”  
“True enough.” The Inquisitor held her hand out to Leliana who handed the papers to her, the advisors stood closely around to view and debate.  
The advisors took a moment to contemplate the documents. They were alarming in their strangeness. The paper itself was brilliantly white and had an unnatural sheen. The stranger’s, incredibly lifelike, portrait was clearly emblazoned at the top so they were definitely his. Then the details themselves. His name ‘Sterling Malory Archer’.  
“Is this name familiar at all Jospehine?” The Inquisitor asked.  
“Not at all I’m afraid, I will of course make enquiries but it is certainly not a noble Orlesian name. I think Leliana was right to suggest that it may indicate his occupation, but he was so quick to deny it…something doesn’t seem right, he’s too relaxed.”  
“I agree,” joined Cullen “I’m honestly beginning to think it’s all a misunderstanding. Perhaps we should contact local villages, see if any of them are missing an idiot?” He was only half joking.  
“Unless, that’s his plan. Lower our defences, perhaps even act as a decoy while his allies attack?” Leliana offered.  
“We still don’t know why he was here? He can’t have known that Schmooples escaped.” The Inquisitor said, looking back to the (annoyingly handsome) stranger, who was happily occupied trying to converse with Scout Harding.  
“The only clue is this emblem. It says ‘ISIS’ and the paper itself, it’s almost otherworldly.” Josephine reminded them.  
“Right, we’ll try to conclude the conversation with the stranger…”  
“Prisoner.” Reminded Cullen.  
“Prisoner, then we’ll consult with Solas and Dorian; between them they’ll have whatever knowledge of otherworldly finery we have failed to appreciate ourselves.” She straightened herself in the throne and handed the papers back to Leliana, signalling that the investigation with the prisoner was to continue.  
The advisors took their places again except Cullen who no longer trusted Scout Harding’s judgement as she stood, helmet in hand laughing at whatever the prisoner had just said to her. Cullen cleared his throat to get both of their attentions, Scout Harding at least had the sense to look embarrassed and made room for Cullen to stand close to the prisoner.  
With the Inquisitor’s attention back on him, the stranger smiled at her.  
“Hey beautiful, what else can I do for you?” His normally charming smile and voice didn’t seem to work as an audible gasp gripped the room.  
“Do you have any idea who you’re addressing?” Leliana’s voice dripped with contempt.  
“Jareth?”  
“Who?”  
“The Goblin King?” His eyes scanned blank expressions. “Or Queen, whatever.” He received a sharp, leather handed slap to the face.  
“Ow, dick!” Another slap.  
“Cullen, that’s enough.” The Inquisitor interrupted. The room, collectively looked mortified. The Inquisitor calmed the tension with a slight shake of her head and a gesture of her milky white hand, she apparently found him intriguing at least.  
“Do you know where you are?” She asked seriously.  
“Europe?”  
“Try again.”  
“Well, if I need to be more specific I’d have to go with Ireland.”  
“What?”  
“I mean what with the leprechauns, the shitty weather and the all-encompassing misery. Plus you’re not exactly lookers.”  
“I meant what island?” The stranger began to laugh even as the Inquisitor sighed dramatically.  
“No, I think you meant which island. Really hoping it's not Summerisle.”  
“I’m not sure you understand how serious this is?”  
“Well of course I don’t understand whatever it is you cliquey ass cos play enthusiasts are working on right now. Did Kreiger send me here to get the party started?” He saw Scout Harding laugh and bite her lip. “She knows what I’m talking about, right?”  
“I’m glad someone does.” The Inquisitor huffed.  
“Who’s Kreiger?” Leliana asked, not missing a beat.  
“I assume one of your creepy friends. He’s a doctor, no not a doctor. He’s a scientist, well, not exactly a scientist. But, he told me had a special project and hooked me up to something. I don’t know, none of his shit usually works so, anyway, next thing I know I’m here. So I assume, as I’ve mentioned already, that he has invited me in to an increasingly disturbing cosplay experience, which best case scenario is building towards an epic orgy of some kind; worst case scenario it gets all Wicker Man. Although, I can’t remember exactly how I got here, which is, you know, classic him. Always with the pills or brain chips or the battery licking…”  
“Could he be another rebel magister, like Alexius, working with time manipulation?” Cullen asked, more in the direction of the Inquisitor, but the stranger took it upon himself to answer anyway.  
“Only if that Alexius chick was totally incompetent! Kreiger manipulates all sorts of horrors but I think time may be a force beyond him.”  
The Inquisitor let out a loud breath, her mind briefly skipping over the many, many ways by which her day could be going better. She ran her eyes over the stranger still on his knees, Cullen’s gloved fingers flexing at his side, clearly waiting for another reason to exercise his authority. The Inquisitor’s breath caught for a moment as she considered the two men, then she cleared her throat and stood to approach them. A tense buzz filled the air as she made her way towards them.  
Once she stood in front of them, she ordered the guards to pull the stranger to his feet. She stepped forward, hoping to intimidate him with close eye contact but instead found herself staring at the solid black wall of his chest, so tried to discretely step back again, blushingly addressing him.  
“I don’t think there’s much point continuing this conversation here.”  
“Soooooooo….”  
“So, you can relax for now and let the guards take care of you while we decide what action to take.”  
“Well, I’d like to…”  
“Not we, you and me, I mean we the Inquisition. You are my prisoner remember?” She puffed her chest slightly, hoping that Cullen was appreciating the show of command as much as the prisoner clearly was.  
“Am I?” The stranger replied, voice dangerously low and close to her. She raised her eyebrow at him, forgetting for a moment that she was surrounded by spectators and hoping that he’d continue. “You’ve got nothing huh? Ok well if you really want me to say it. Ask me again where I think we are.”  
“Where do you think we are?” She swallowed as his piercing blue eyes swept over her.  
“Just a special little place I like to call…” And then he leant further forward still, only slightly caught by the guards on either side. “The danger zone.”  
As the words left his lips, Cullen swung into action restraining him further. Calling out commands to the surrounding soldiers to bring the prisoner to the cells. The stranger was hauled from the room, brow furrowed a muttered “What the shit?” under his breath.  
The Inquisitor did not move until the action had ceased and she could feel her pulse slowly return to normal. One part of her lamented that Cullen had to show such force, denying her the opportunity to openly ogle the prisoner (he was definitely a prisoner now) further; the more logical part of her, the part that wasn’t desperate to follow his bulk to the cells and continue what they’d started, frowned for a moment in concern. He had said that they were in a danger zone, so perhaps Leliana had been right, maybe he was an assassin and perhaps even a decoy. The realisation would have been far more troubling if she wasn’t so looking forward to her opportunity to interrogate him privately. Being the Inquisitor had certain perks. Thus thinking, she made her way to her quarters to change into something a little more….inquisitorial with which to make an impression on the prisoner.


	2. Demon or God?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan's theories about the Eluvian mirror seem to be coming true as Sterling reveals more about his origins. Cullen is, obviously, unimpressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a long time coming - I'm finding this quite challenging!  
> I have plans for another 2 chapters after this.
> 
> As always, kudos/comments very much appreciated :)

The sound of rushing water was almost deafening in the cell Archer had been housed in, and as Cullen arrived back to attempt to interrogate him he found the prisoner looking decidedly unhappy, hands clasped over his ears. Cullen called through the bars:

“Prisoner, are you unwell?” No response. Cullen sighed and signalled for a guard to open the door of the cell so he could approach him directly.

“Prisoner, you do not look well.” Cullen stated when he was close enough to speak more gently.

“No shit.” Archer glared back at him. Cullen raised his eyebrows before persevering with his questioning.

“My name is Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition’s forces. And you are?”

“Sterling Archer, world’s most dangerous spy. And I am freezing my balls off, you could at least give me your fun fur.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Cullen pulled his cloak tighter.

“You attached to it?”

“Not…physically.”

“I get it. Was it your first kill? First labour? Shit is the Nemean lion?” All the time, Sterling tried reaching for the garment to be swatted away by Cullen’s gloved hands.

“I have no response to that.”

A laugh emanated from a dark corner of the prison. Sterling strained to see who had mocked him but his view was blocked by Cullen’s armoured form.

“My guards have informed me that you were carrying a substantial amount of weaponry and ammunition, I would have you explain your intentions.”

“My intentions? My intention is to leave here without suffering permanent hearing loss.” Cullen smiled a little, deciding to humour the man crouching pitifully in the corner of the cell furthest from the waterfall.

“Yes, well our renovations haven’t stretched this far I’m afraid. Most prisoners are dealt with rather more decisively than you; few find their way here. I hope that your situation resolves itself quickly also. Do you think that will be a problem?”

“As in the final problem?”

“Excuse me?”

“Because if the closeness of that yawning abyss is supposed to be some kind of veiled threat then, spoiler alert, it wasn’t enough to kill Holmes so I’m pretty sure I’d survive it.” 

“What? No. There are no veiled threats here. I will regretfully have to begin using real threats if you don’t become a little more co-operative.”

“In what way have I not been co-operative so far, seriously is this a joke? Do I need to roll a six or something to rejoin the game? This is the shittiest LARPing experience ever.” 

“May I remind you that you are a prisoner here?”

“Duh.”

“So I would suggest you adjust your tone accordingly.” Cullen’s face scowled, threateningly close to Archer’s.

“And I would suggest you, you…do not adjust…wait I had something for this.” As Archer screwed his face in concentration, still scrambling for the correct words, footsteps signalled the approach of another visitor. His eyes roamed the form of a dark haired woman in a wild combination of feathers and loose fabric, breasts partially visible beneath swathes of material and what looked like a bikini top. What the hell was wrong with these people, were they endothermic?

“Lady Morrigan.” Cullen greeted her “Have you come with any news of this man’s allies?”

“Alas, no, your recruits have performed a very thorough sweep of the grounds – nothing. But I am not surprised, something seemed unusual, noteworthy even about his credentials. Cullen have you considered the possibility that this man may be telling the truth? With the Eluvian mirror housed within Skyhold itself it was always a matter of time before another world collided with ours.”

“Which is exactly why I cautioned against keeping the damn thing here!” Cullen’s voice rising with exasperation.

“Hey, hostile work environment.” Sterling interrupted, smiling winningly at Morrigan.

“Never mind.” Cullen sighed, admitting defeat “If you wish to question this…man, then be my guest.” He and his enormous cloak withdrew from the cell but stayed outside to watch the interrogation. 

“You made quite the impression Sterling Archer.” Morrigan’s voice was suggestive and warming, without the faintest trace of irritation. Sterling shifted a little, pleased to hear he’d made an impression “I wonder if you could enlighten us as to your origins. For example, who is Kreiger?”

“You know, I’m starting to wonder that myself.” His new jailor was far more welcome than the previous man who loitered at the door, scowling and biting his lip.

“Alright,” Morrigan continued “If you are unsure as to who sent you here, perhaps you could give me an indication as to where you’re from or, more importantly, when?”

“I could. And perhaps you could give me…” Sterling’s eyebrow raised suggestively.

“That’s enough prisoner, show respect for the lady.” Cullen’s voice prodded through the bars.

“Fine, Commander Cock Block. Erm, I guess the time would be just before lunch, let’s call it elevenses.” Morrigan smirked at the stranger’s misunderstanding, his face was handsome enough to compensate for his slow wits.

“And the year?”

“Why? What year is it here?”

“Dragon 9:42.”

“On the Gregorian Calendar idiot.” His words were rude but his smile smoothed any offence.

“So you record time differently? This is most intriguing, and you have been sent here by a superior being.”

“Hey! Kreiger? Superior? I don’t think so. If anything, it’s me who calls the shots.” She frowned, unsure “Calls the shots?” She shook her head “It’s an idiom. I’m in charge. It’s me who directs them.”

“Them? To whom do you refer?”

“Shit, everybody.” Morrigan’s eyes widened for a moment at the possibilities, her throat drying and eyes flashing. Her excitement rippled from her as she leant closer to him for inspection.

“I would welcome the opportunity to question you further, perhaps in more genial surroundings.” Morrigan made a flourish with her hand, indicating the dank cell but kept her bewitching eyes fastened to his.

“And I too would welcome more genial surroundings. That is if Rum Tum Tugger will let me leave.”

Morrigan laughed: “Of course, I look forward to your further co-operation.” She tried to flatten her smile, unwilling to appear too eager.

“And by co-operation you mean sex, right?”

“Mmm, I think it’s open to interpretation.” Her words trailed behind her as she left the cell briefly to negotiate with Cullen. Sterling watched her seductive form as she sashayed away. He could get used to this game after all.  
Voices were raised at the door, Cullen clearly taking exception to whatever information Morrigan was relaying:

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Commander you must allow the possibility…”

“Absolutely not. There will be a simpler explanation and until then he can stay in there!”

“I would exercise a little more caution, if my suspicions are correct…”

“Maker preserve me. I cannot believe…”

“I’m not asking you to believe. Yet. But if he has come to us via the Eluvian then the likelihood is that we are dealing with a demon or a god.”

“Demon or God? Woooooo!” Sterling shouted, punching the air with his fist.

“Really?” Cullen sighed. There was nothing mysterious about this man in his eyes.

“Well, we will no doubt discover which soon enough. The Inquisitor wants him released, she’s keen to assess his abilities herself.” Morrigan clearly had the final word. There was more grumbling from outside the cell door before Sterling was bathed in light once more. He stood, flexing his numb limbs, an impressive vision that was not lost on Morrigan.

“Come on prisoner, prepare yourself. The Inquisitor wants a demonstration of your abilities.” Cullen gestured for Sterling to leave his cell, which he did taking the time to scan his eyes over Morrigan as he passed her. Morrigan smiled back before leaving the dungeon.

Sterling moved to follow but was blocked by Cullen’s armoured arm. 

“Tread carefully prisoner.”

“Umm, isn’t it an offence to manhandle deities?” Sterling needled. Cullen just huffed and began to walk away.

“Cullen.” Sterling called, the commander already retreating.

“Cullen.” Still, he did not turn around.

“Cullen.” He was up the steps, almost out of the dungeon altogether.

“Cullen.” Against his better judgement he paused, hand on the door handle.

“CULLEN!” 

“WHAT?” He matched Sterling’s volume, but was surprised to see that the man just laughed.

“I just wanted to hear you roar.” There was no response other than a glare and the slamming of the door.

As his laugh subsided, Sterling felt his skin prickle as the awareness of an intruder came to him. He reached for his underwear gun and spun on his stalker, his usually precise movements caught off guard by the extraordinary appearance of the creature.

“What the..?” Sterling didn’t finish before the creature leant forwards breathing hot air over his face. Horns twisted from the creature’s skull and one brilliant blue eye inspected him; the other hidden beneath a black, fabric eye-patch. From the edges frayed, knotted scar tissue was just protruding adding to the strangeness of his appearance. If it weren’t for his clown trousers, Sterling would have been far more terrified.

“Nice piece.” Bull complimented Sterling on the redundant weapon in his hand with a nod of his head.

“Uh, thanks.” He did not lower it.

“So are you going to stand there threatening me all day or you gonna be smart?”

“Little of column A; little of column B.” To his surprise, the creature grinned and nodded.

“I can see why the boss is keen to get to you know you better. You could be useful.” Bull stood back again to his full height, pleased with the effect this seemed to have on Sterling. “Come on, we’ll go meet her now. Oh, and just so you know, I’m this world’s most dangerous spy.”

“Well sure, I mean your cover’s extreme- what is that, like dermal implants? Dude, respect. You totally committed to the cause. You could consider a more subtle approach I suppose, I usually just go with a fake moustache.”

“There’s nothing fake about these.” Bull tilted his head, horns bucking.

“God, you’re such a pro – don’t even break character.” Sterling put his underwear gun away again and was happy to be led away from the roaring water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next...Archer becomes one of the team!
> 
>  
> 
> Any kudos/comments gratefully received :)


	3. Until I Took An Arrow to the Knee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition receives reports about a new rift appearing near Skyhold. The Inquisitor chooses her companions for the quest, including the impressive new stranger...guess who's not happy about it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter while I try and edit the next action-packed sequence.  
> Enjoy :)
> 
> Please let me know what you think - kudos/comments always appreciated :)
> 
> Plus - can you spot the (not to subtle) Skyrim reference?

“Nice!” Varric admired Archer’s Walther PPK. The Inquisitor insisted he help their cause; Sterling insisted his weapons be returned. His beloved Walther safe in his hands once more, he was beginning to almost enjoy the experience. And now a dwarf, an actual dwarf, was comparing weapons. Sterling had to admit the whole escapade was kind of fun.

“Right, says the man with the pimped-up crossbow. Seriously that thing is awesome. Let me have a go.” Sterling’s voice is a demand as he began to grab at the weapon. Varric resisted, surprised at the strength in the stranger.

“No, I can’t allow another man to handle Bianca!” Varric's voice scandalised but laughing nonetheless at the enthusiasm of his new companion.

They continued to struggle by the fireplace as recruits hurriedly passed reports to Cullen at the main entrance. He walked as he worked, quickly beckoning the Inquisitor over to share the news. Cullen ordered his (fairly incompetent) messenger, Jim, to bring the plans to Leliana. He took a moment to understand that he had been ordered “Now!” before he turned to scuttle away.

Meanwhile Sterling and Varric continued to wrestle Bianca, Sterling’s hand unintentionally pulled the trigger. A high-pitched “Ow!” reacting to the movement.

Cullen looked up from his report to see Jim limping toward the corridor, arrow in knee, other recruits rushing to his aid.

“Sorry.” Sterling called from his spot by the mantelpiece. 

“Andraste’s tears – do you not see what an irresponsible liability that man is?” Cullen addressed the Inquisitor, she shrugged a little, brushing Cullen’s arm.

“Come on Cullen, you can’t say you haven’t been tempted to shoot Jim yourself. Plus, he’ll be healed in no time and may be a little less idle in future.” As she cajoled him, Sterling and Varric came over to discover the latest reports. Cullen turned on Sterling:

“Have you nothing to say for yourself?” Voice endeavouring to assert his status.

“Something about not shooting the messenger?” Sterling offered, Varric and the Inquisitor both sniggered a little.

“Unbelievable.” Cullen shook his head, eyes appealing to the Inquisitor for support.

“I know, it’s not quite right – come back to me.” The Inquisitor broke the tension by explaining to Varric their day’s mission.

“Scouts have reported a new rift near Skyhold. Small, at present, but we’ll need a party to set out immediately to contain the threat.”

“Here we go Newbie” Varric turned to Sterling “You want to see Bianca at work in the right pair of hands?”

“Varric, I think it’d be prudent to allow the Inquisitor to select her own companions.” Cullen dared to rest his palm on her lower back, a show of support (he’d never dare admit he was concerned about his Inquisitor spending time alone with this stranger).

“Relax Curly, who’d turn down an extra pair of hands against some rogue demons?” Varric said.

“In any case, we need to see if this man’s abilities are worthy of our attention.” The Inquisitor added decisively.

“So, I’m coming with you?” Sterling’s voice was flat but certainly intrigued.

“Of course, if you’re going to be causing damage it may as well be at our enemy’s expense.” The Inquisitor smiled, attempting to keep him motivated to help their cause.

“Ha! In your face Liono!” Sterling exclaimed, Cullen’s jaw tensed but he managed to convey calm as he spoke in response:

“Inquisitor if I may have a word,” He gestured for her to step aside a moment for a little privacy “I cannot pretend I’m happy to see you leaving here with this…”

“God.” Sterling called out.

“Man. But, please, be vigilant we cannot be certain what threat he poses. Choose your companions carefully.”

“I always do.” She reassured, Cullen was always so serious. For a military commander he was frustratingly cautious. She considered how exciting it would be to loosen him up, but then she could see the handsome stranger watching her from over his shoulder and she filed the thought away for later. Her trip may be more fun than she’d imagined. 

Cullen frowned for a moment then followed her line of sight, his insides freezing a little when he saw the object of her gaze. He opened his mouth to say something but couldn’t for the life of him imagine what could be said in this situation. Instead he opted for a simple:

“Maker watch over you.” As he left surrounded by more recruits.

“Ah, if he only had the nerve.” Sterling mused watching the Cowardly Lion’s retreating figure.

“I know, right?” Varric chuckled by his side, the Inquisitor blushed a little before turning to them.

“Saddle up, we’re heading out to the breach.” The Inquisitor spoke decisively and left, expecting them to follow.

“Once more, my friends, once more.” Sterling announced as he followed his new agent in command.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now the gang have left Skyhold, they'll be heading on their way to a dangerous, action-packed demon bloodbath. Of course, Sterling loves it!


	4. Navajo Joe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group make their way to the new rift...and get a little distracted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The battle-ready party head out to the rift and indulge in their usual party banter en route. Except this time there's a new party member.

“We’re actually going to fight on horseback? What are we, Swiss?”

“Well, you can walk if you like but you’ll miss all the action.” The Inquisitor responded, they’d been riding for about half an hour and Sterling still couldn’t quite believe it, frequently patting and nuzzling the Ferelden Forder’s mane despite the Inquisitor’s requests for him not to.

“He’s not a pet.” She admonished.

“Yes he is, who’s a good horse?” The horse flexed and whinnied under Sterling’s attentions and the party couldn’t help but warm to their new companion.

“Stop that, he won’t want to return to me! He’s on loan, nothing more.” Although her voice was clipped, her mouth curled a little with the joy of seeing someone take such pleasure in life. A rare quality of late. Perhaps this new companion would renew some of their fight, their spirit, and their motivation. If nothing else he seemed to be making Cullen jealous which was always a bonus. The Inquisitor felt that her gaze had lingered a little too long and she dug her heels into her own mount to retake her place at the head of the party.

“Hey.” Sterling called to Dorian as the gap left by the Inquisitor left them riding parallel to one another. Sterling hadn’t yet spoken to this flamboyant magician. The idea of riding into battle with a magician made Sterling giggle to himself.

“Yes?” Dorian responded, oddly flattered that he had been addressed.

“Who do I remind you of?” Sterling sat up straighter, he did make a sight. Dorian sifted through his mind for an acceptable answer, he didn’t want to appear overly familiar.

“Erm, an emperor of some kind?” It was pathetic, he knew that.

“Navajo Joe?!” His eyebrows raised in expectation, when Dorian’s expression did not change, Sterling sighed and prompted him further, “You know, Burt Reynolds is Navajo Joe.”

Again, Dorian looked blankly. Sterling mistook his hesitation for offence and immediately continued “Shit, I mean, is that racist cos of the Indians? Shit, Native Americans. Are you, like 16th part Cherokee or something, cos you like kind of...”

“I’m not a 16th of anything, I’m a thoroughbred. All parts Tevinter, sadly, especially the good parts.”

“Oh, crap, don’t start him off about his fucking ancestry again.” Iron Bull whined with a good natured chuckle at Dorian.

“I apologise if my cultural crisis is so tedious to you. Some of us are actually proud of our rich heritage and devoted to its continuing development.” Dorian pretended to look offended.

“Right, Cos I don’t give a shit about the Qun?” 

“Wow! Ok, well that’s racist.” Sterling looked abashed at the heated discussion unfolding around him.

“It’s not racist to question things; it’s worse to accept wrongs unthinkingly.” Dorian explained.

“Preaching to the converted.” Sterling agreed, again giving his horse a friendly pat.

Dorian watched the stranger riding alongside him with affectionate curiosity. How could Cullen even begin to think that he was a credible threat? If anything, Dorian was beginning to theorise that he was another spirit like Cole, albeit a far filthier-mouthed one. When Sterling looked up, catching Dorian’s eye, the latter shivered a little pulling his cloak tighter. The action immediately reminding Sterling of the biting cold.

“How much further? I don’t think I can feel my fingers anymore.” He asked, skin almost blue. His extremely black turtleneck giving very little protection.

“Well, if you’d accepted the offer of a cloak.” Dorian replied.

Sterling just laughed and then looked at the man “What? Oh you’re serious.”

“Are you not?” 

“I very much am serious, that’s why I thought rocking up to a fight dressed in plaid would be entirely…”

“Practical?”

“Ridiculous, I was going to say. But, eurgh, I think I am literally going to die of cold.”

“You mean figuratively.”

“No, I mean literally. How long until winter’s over?”

“It’s always winter.” Dorian grizzled, burying his face deeper into his collar. Though Sterling was companionable, he wasn’t enjoying being reminded of the hideous weather he had to endure here.

“Let me guess, and never Christmas? What sort of threat are we dealing with exactly, I’m usually given a case file on new hostiles. Which, admittedly, I rarely read. But still this does seem, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, underprepared.”

“They’re not new hostiles. They’re tediously predictable. Mindless demons. The only thrill is in identifying the type, before one annihilates them. And of course, knowing we’re one step closer to preventing catastrophic destruction.”

“Annihilates? Shit, you do love your job.”

“As much as a cat enjoys hunting rats; I imagine they yearn for greater challenges occasionally.”

“But demons. Is that code here for like rogue agents?”

“No I mean the demons from the fade.”

“An enemy state?”

“Have you never read a book?”

“Don’t even.” Sterling scowled, still not forgiving the group for failing to appreciate his Narnia quip.

“We’ve been summoned to close a rift, most unusual sadly, the demons enter our world from said rifts. Like you.”

“Ouch.” Varric interjected.

“Your slutty witch friend called me a God.” Sterling scoffed.

“Could be, she said you could be…” reminded Bull.

“Shut up. An actual God. So we’ll be fighting actual demons?” Sterling was all blue-eyed wonder. Dorian shook his head, how someone so beautiful could be so vacant was a tragedy and a mystery.

“What exactly are you failing to understand?”

“The core concept clearly.”

“Well perhaps you shouldn’t overburden yourself with concepts and theory; focus on engaging in the practical element of fighting the blasted things.”

“That, I can get on board with.”

As Sterling was speaking, his attention was caught by a small sandy coloured creature racing alongside their group. His eyes wondered, mouth wide in awe:

“Holy shit! Vulpes Zerda! I can’t…oh my god!” His words becoming difficult to hear as he urged his horse to gallop alongside the creature.

“No!” The Inquisitor called too late. Sterling was on her regular mounts, the leader of their group. As Sterling turned off the path to pursue the fennec fox, the rest of the horses turned and followed in obedience and panic. 

They rounded a bend to find Sterling still in pursuit of his quarry.

“What are you doing? You can’t eat fennec!” Iron Bull called after him.

“Eat it? What the hell is wrong with you people?” Sterling continued his pace, shit this fox was fast. Eventually he took a sharp right turn, too late for Dorian’s cry of ‘Watch out!’ to be of any use and tumbled with his horse into a partially frozen quagmire, the rest of the party stopping just in time to avoid the same fate.

*********************************************************************************  
Dorian’s teeth chattered as he clung onto his horse’s reins, barely clothed now in just his undershirt and leather trousers, he tried to avoid looking at Sterling whose own clothes had had to be abandoned and now sat adorned in Dorian’s favourite mage armour. Sterling opened his mouth to speak but Dorian pre-empted it with a glare and:

“Don’t even speak to me.”

“I was just going to say that the leather chaps thing is a bit of a cliché.”

“Well I wouldn’t be in just my leathers if you hadn’t almost drowned!”

“Exactly, almost, so it’s a happy ending!”

“What were you thinking bolting after a pest like that? Not only is the land covered in the blighters, you almost got us all killed.”

“And again, I’m sorry about that.” Sterling was sorry, he knew it was freezing cold and had some sympathy for the poor man. He was also sorry that he’d had to abandon his own tactleneck. He sighed at the thought, and it thawed Dorian’s temper a little. 

“Really?” He looked so sincere. Sterling just nodded and shifted in the warmth of his new clothes.

“Totally worth it.” He whispered to the purring ball of fluff inside the cloak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we are finally ready for the battle - the journey was a little more eventful than I'd originally planned but I thought it was fun.
> 
> Please respond with any feedback/kudos/comments, very, very much appreciated - especially for such a crack crossover!


	5. FIGHT!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally arrive at the rift and Sterling impresses his companions with his awesome skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you're still reading here's the obligatory action sequence.  
> Hope you enjoy it, and please any comments/kudos very much appreciated.

Vibrant green ripped through the sky, fluctuating and reaching out in tendrils to the ground. The party sat in wait behind a rocky overhang, whispering their plan. Once Sterling had been reassured that it wasn’t a Pink Floyd concert, the Inquisitor set about giving commands for the battle ahead. The commands were brief, Bull, Varric and Dorian had a regular routine now but she wanted to ensure that the new companion understood his place within the unit. She also wanted to ensure that she had her eyes on him at all times (not because of his pleasing features) in case he really was an assassin or demon. 

As the first of the demons began to fall from the fade, The Inquisitor quickly counted six enemies. Mostly rage demons; one despair. 

“Alright, Dorian I want you to focus on…” Before she could finish her instruction a deafening blast rang out. Then another, another…six in total. Sterling had leaned over from the cover of rock and used his weapon to floor all six demons. The action too quick for the others to register how he’d accomplished it. All they were left staring at were bubbling, black piles on the ground. He turned to them with a satisfied grin, noticing that they all had their hands to their ears.

“I’m sorry. I know that hurts.” He apologised, reholstering the gun.

“Shit, I hate to say it but maybe he is a God.” Varric observed in wonder, palming Bianca consolingly.

“That was badass!” Iron Bull took his hands away from his ears to clutch the air in excitement. Dorian said nothing, too disturbed by being confronted by a wholly new type of magic.

“We’re not finished yet.” The Inquisitor lamented as the shadowy shapes of yet more demons beginning to emerge from the rift.

“Oh shit – I’m out of ammo.” Sterling frowned, he hadn’t realised that gaping green hole was a demon assembly line. The unpredictability made his head buzz for a moment. This was a game, of course it had to be a game, but still it was getting pretty real.  
“Don’t forget your little friend” Bull flicked at his crotch. The Inquisitor looked surprised for a moment until Archer pulled out the underwear gun and slid across the rock ledge, ready to get stuck into more demons.

More demons! Sterling shot two down almost instantly, dodging the flailing fire trail of a rage demon to scoot behind it and place a bullet in its head. 

The Inquisitor was busy hacking at an icy despair demon, its icicles shooting wildly across the vast expanse. Seeing its beam about to target Dorian, Sterling elbowed another rage demon into its path immediately melting the beam of ice. Dorian gave Sterling a quick nod of appreciation before flourishing his staff, downing an envy demon rampaging toward him. 

Iron Bull’s huge form suddenly charged wildly past Sterling, momentarily distracting him with the urgent need to make a joke about Jake La Motta, but before he could satisfactorily form it in his mind a scorching blast hit his hands making him drop the gun. Without flinching, he immediately turned to eyeball the fiery adversary. The demon snarled and lifted its arms in an all too elaborate gesture, giving sterling plenty of time to slip under his reach and crack its neck from behind. 

“Shit!” Sterling cried out as his scalding fingers released the smouldering corpse.

Once again a hiatus hung over the battleground. Sterling allowed himself a moment to catch his breath, enjoying the extravagant flurry of his cape as he lunged at his foes.

The Inquisitor’s hand shot a green light shaft toward the rift and she grimaced at the effort. Despite the blood pumping in his ears, and his tinnitus, Sterling could hear his companions breathing raggedly around him. This had to be almost over, surely. In the moment of reprieve he went to salvage his gun, only to find it a molten mess. Varric was at his side with consolation:

“Shit Newbie, that’s rough. You going to be alright for the next round?”

“Maybe.” Sterling narrowed his eyes, before Varric could object, he’d grabbed Bianca.

“Hey, you do not do that.” Varric smouldered at him. Sterling held him away with ease.

"I'm just borrowing it!" Sterling slapped at Varric's frantic hands. As they squabbled, an enormous shape filled their vision. A pride demon. An enormous, lightning wielding brute.

“Holy shit!” Sterling exclaimed, confidently aiming Bianca and firing. The demon curled his…could you call them lips?... viciously before bellowing at the party and raising its whip to lash out. All of his companions darted from the demon’s reach; reacting from experience. Only Sterling carried on firing at it oblivious to the obvious danger he was in. 

“Get out of the way!” Bull called desperately as the crack of electricity stung Sterling’s body throwing him across the space. Bianca sailed through the air too, Varric making a frantic dash to retrieve his beloved.

Sterling rubbed his head, taking in the spectacle of all four of his companions battling the monster. Dorian and Varric stood at a distance both firing on the beast. Dorian sagged, energy drained, his lightning bolts ineffective against the demon. Varric, mainly seemed to be diving for cover. His quiver of bolts depleted after Sterling’s outburst. The two warriors hacked at the creature’s legs but they seemed to be causing it a minor inconvenience, nothing more. He felt a surge of rage at the unfairness of this thing being pitted against them and sprang to his feet. 

Sterling rolled across the floor, avoiding another whipcrack, and searched the area for anything that may serve as a weapon. As his eyes scanned the arena, he saw the pride demon shrug offhandedly, sweeping Varric completely off his feet, his head cracking sickeningly against the ice. The demon raised his crackling whip, clearly planning to finish the little man.

“Nobody tosses a dwarf!” Sterling yelled as he leapt onto the pride demon’s back, the jolt of surprise preventing it from bringing the whip down. Instead, Sterling gritted his teeth as he wrapped his hands around the leash and pulled it up around the demon’s neck. At first, it looked to the onlookers as if Sterling was trying to ride the beast, but as his face grew redder and the demon’s movements became more erratic the reality of Sterling’s intentions dawned on the group.  
“Andraste’s tits! Is he really trying to strangle that thing?” Bull gawped in admiration.

“That man is mad!” Dorian joined, voice thick with approval. “He’s going to kill himself…”Dorian’s narration was cut short by the demon roaring in pain.

With a final jerk, the whip bit into the demon’s flesh garrotting it – black blood raining over the area. The companions scattered in disgust as the demon began to sway and fall to its knees with a thud.  
*************************************************************  
“Maker! Wake up! Oh, shit.” The Inquisitor panicked over Sterling, his hair dishevelled and skin tingling from shock. She began to lean over him, happy to give him the kiss of life, when Sterling’s eyes fluttered and he smirked at the woman’s intentions.

“Danger zo…” the rest of his husky nonsense caught by a cough. She sighed, relieved but quickly practical in opening her bag to find healing potions.

“Drink this.” She forced the vial to Sterling’s mouth and he eagerly accepted, before standing to visit the rest of her companions.

Dorian and Varric were busy dragging Bull’s body from beneath the weight of the slain demon.

“We need a healing potion!” Dorian called to the Inquisitor, “I haven’t enough mana to be much use.”

“Sterling!” The Inquisitor called to him, he was still gulping the potion greedily.

“Sterling, we need some of that potion.” She called again. Sterling held up his finger up to signal that he hadn’t finished before draining the vial with a satisfied ahh. 

“Come on, don’t be a prick we could all do with a little mending, Bull especially.” Varric cried over.

“Just ask…” he downs a second tube “for another, I’m sure there are plenty for everyone.”

“Well, no actually. Usually we behave with a little more caution.” Dorian chastised.

“Shit, well how’s that working out for you?” Sterling laughed.

“Come on, just throw us the remaining potions.” The Inquisitor called, holding Bull’s hand and grimacing as she looked at the twisted mess of his legs.

“Ummm.” He stalled, while looking in the bag.

“You can’t have seriously drank all the potions?” Varric asked.

“No, I sarcastically drank all the potions. No one said we were on rations.”

“You inconsiderate prick!” Dorian shouted at him.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you over the sound of me saving all your ungrateful lives.” Sterling burped, and settled back against the rock again, annoyingly handsome in his ruffled mage’s garb. Dorian huffed and chose to focus his attention on more urgent matters.

“We’ll need to get Bull back to Skyhold, a healer will need to tend to his legs. I can alleviate a little of the pain for now but I haven’t enough mana to fully heal him.” Dorian explained calmly to the Inquisitor, eyes full of worry as he rubbed Bull’s shoulders, hoping some relief was working its way through to him. Bull was stoic but grunted at the pressure.

“Again, and I hate to say this, but underprepared.” Sterling called out as he began to stand and dust himself off.

“Alright you asshole, just help me back to my mount.” Bull called over, surprisingly friendly in tone “I can make it to Skyhold Boss.” Bull pulled a tight smile and leant on his companions to help him stand.

Sterling led Bull’s horse over to him to assist and at least had the decency to look sheepish when Bull gasped at the pain of remounting.

Varric, Bull and Dorian were in saddle as the Inquisitor finished packing up the empty vials and absent-mindedly picking a few elfroots. Sterling approached her, wiping a smear of demon blood from her cheek.

“So…” He began.

“So, you are exceptionally helpful in a fight.”

“Well, duh.”

“And you also seem to enjoy it.”

“Again, duh. That was hands down one of the freakiest fucking things I have ever taken part in. Well apart from the 4th of Ju…never mind. Basically, that was awesome. I was awesome. And, I was thinking you didn’t entirely suck at it either.”

“My, quite the silver tongued prince aren’t you?”

“I’ve got whatever tongue you’re looking for.” She pulled a face at his oddly unalluring words. “Wait, no, that was – let me try again.”

“It’s alright. I think it’d be better for both of us if I judged you by your actions rather than your words.” She bit her lip, the adrenaline of battle clearly making her bolder than usual. That or sheer frustration from months of waiting for Cullen to make a move and then this astonishing man appearing from nowhere.

She became aware of just how close he was, and how his eyes were just closing and his mouth was just…

“Eugh, can you resist his charms long enough to help our friend Bull to a healer?” Dorian called over from where they were waiting.

“Can you?” Sterling whispered to her. She gulped.

“Of course, we should be heading back.” She almost gasped, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear and avoiding his eyes.

“You’re right. Aslan’ll be chewing his tail by now.” Sterling chuckled and got back on his horse, careful not to squash his new pet safely stowed in the saddle bag.

The significance of them riding into the sunset together was not lost on the Inquisitor; neither was the fact that she had three very grumpy friends as witnesses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading - hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Starting to head for the final chapter (chapters) now so please let me know if you have any requests.  
> Also, general kudos/comments very welcome :)


	6. The Dread Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sterling and his companions arrive back at Skyhold after their mission left Bull with terrible leg injuries.  
> Sterling's actions have piqued the interest of one of Skyhold's more mystical inhabitants.  
> Also, his new pet causes trouble!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while. I've really struggled with certain characters and with trying to use dialogue that drives plot rather than just contains Archeresque jokes.  
> Please leave any comments/kudos/feedback.
> 
> The end is in sight!

“Quick, lay him in here and fetch Madame De Fer!”

“Is that a real name?” Sterling laughed as the companions laid Bull out on the central table, clearing the space to allow the healer to work. Vivienne swirled into the hall moments later accompanied by an anxious Cassandra. It was rare for Iron Bull to be the one to return injured.

“Bull! You seem remarkably calm considering your condition.” Vivienne smiled as she began sweeping her hands over the bloody wounds of his legs. Dorian was still holding his hand, the tenser of the two by far.

“Hey, maybe I was just looking forward to your healing hands ma’am.” Bull was stoic at least, his pain threshold was impressively high. That, or Dorian had managed to ease his discomfort a lot more than he’d hoped.

“Hmm, flattery will get you everywhere darling.” Vivienne appreciated Bull’s good humour as she began hovering her fingers over the worst affected areas.

“Is this how medicals always go here? I’m not judging, just thought he could probably do with a tourniquet, maybe some stitches and a splint. You know, actual medical attention rather than…reiki.” Sterling leant against the table observing the procedure with a cynical frown.

“Are you questioning Madame’s abilities?” Dorian pouted at him.

“Basically.”

“Unbelievable.” Bull, shushed his tetchy lover and stroked his hand, visibly relaxing as Vivienne continued.

“No, what’s unbelievable is that he’s allowing you to wave your magic hands over him rather than demanding a real doctor.” Sterling made to move but changed his mind as Cassandra looked up, he arranged his features into what he knew was a smoulder. Cassandra didn’t acknowledge him at all, instead seemingly scolding Dorian and Bull:

“What happened? This should have been a simple task.” She sounded stern but they knew she was concerned.

“Yeah, well ask the new boy here.” Bull gestured to Sterling, raising a large hand and seemingly grinning as he did so.

“Ah, the mysterious stranger.”

“Hi, how ya doin’, I’m Ster…”

“Save it. Just tell me the facts stranger.”

“Ok, straight to the point. We fought a ton of monsters, which I’m amazing at by the way, then this huge fucking troll arrived with an electric whip which seemed a little OP. So I set about saving all their goddamned lives, still waiting for a thank you…” He broke his monologue to glare at Dorian who scoffed “Gimli took a few pot shots at it and Raging Bull here got stuck into its legs but I basically owned the beast and then we all rode back to the castle to live happily ever after. I assume.”

“You forgot to mention the part where you fell into a stinking pit and forced me to give you my clothes.” Dorian added.

“A wizard should know better.” Sterling laughed.

“Well, that does explain…this.” Cassandra gestured to Sterling’s flamboyant dress and Dorian’s lack of attire.

“Shit, I hate to say it Cassandra, but apart from completely missing the part about Bull getting crushed by a demon that’s a pretty accurate interpretation. I know we didn’t say thank you at the time but that, whatever it was you did out there…pretty impressive and we needed it.” Varric was sincere and Cassandra almost smiled at his generosity.

“Finally.” Sterling almost smiled.

“Oh, and don’t touch Bianca again.”

“I was borrowing it!” Sterling’s hands gestured widely, feeling unjustly berated for his brilliance. "God, are you still bitching about that?" Varric shook his head, the moment of reconciliation seemingly destroyed "Fine, then just pout."

“And where’s the Inquisitor?” Cassandra asked, always keen to steer the conversation away from Varric’s unhealthy obsession with his crossbow.

“Probably gone to take a cold bath.” Varric raised his eyebrow and the other companions chuckled.

“She’s not injured?” Cassandra’s face grew stormy again.

“Not…physically.” Dorian smirked. Cassandra rolled her eyes, feeling like a strict school mistress all of a sudden.

“I’m going to pretend I don’t know what you’re referring to and just say thank you for your efforts stranger.”

“Sterling. Sterling Archer.”

“Fine. Sterling. On behalf of the Inquisition, thank you for your efforts today.”

“All done my dear, wiggle your little toes for me.” Vivienne crooned to Bull and he willingly obliged.

“Thanks, that feels…ah…a little stiff.” Sterling simply snorted at the comment as Bull put his hand on Vivienne’s shoulder as he swung his legs over the side of the table and tested their strength.

“Wonderful. I imagine you can walk as far as the tavern.” Dorian said as he supported his weight. Bull’s health now restored, he felt a little friendlier towards Sterling. “Would you care to join us?” Sterling eyed the pair suspiciously, Dorian could immediately see where his mind had sunk and sighed “Not us together as a couple you filthy man, just for a drink.”

“And maybe a game of cards? Got to give Sparkler the chance to win back his clothes.” Varric winked at the glowering mage.

“Oh good, I was worried that, you know…to be honest I don’t even know how that’d work. But, yes, a drink.” 

Sterling turned to follow them and promptly shouted in surprise as a pale figure suddenly loomed up in front of him.

“What the..?” Sterling began, shocked at the sight of this creature of the night. 

“Apologies for startling you. I have been observing you closely and I wonder whether I might ask you some questions?”

“Well that’s creepy.” Sterling considered the nearly translucent man in front of him.

“Once again, apologies if my approach made you uncomfortable. My name is Solas.” Sterling sniggered, Solas ignored the noise and gently but firmly tugged at Sterling’s arm “Please, come this way, I would appreciate the opportunity to discuss your role here.” Solas gestured to the door and Sterling unwillingly followed. 

Bull, Dorian, Varric and Cassandra made their way toward the tavern, Bull calling out after him: “We’ll get a round in, don’t take too long!” Sterling grumbled under his breath as he was led away from his favourite pastime.

As the door closed, Sterling gazed over the murals with wonder. 

“So, you’ve earned respect from many on the field today.” Solas made a start as he took a seat.

“Obviously. It’s what I do.” Sterling crossed his arms, waiting for some instruction. He thought perhaps this man was a dungeon master of sorts.

“May I ask you, do you have any idea where you are?” Solas was smiling encouragingly, clearly in his element.

“Hmmm,” Sterling appraised the room again and noticed the collection of rocks and crystals on the table. Crystals, that was it! “The medieval zone?”

“A zone?”

“Yeah, so I have to collect some crystals and you’ll give me some reward? Shit, is Kreiger so desperate for cash he’d send me on some lame show?”

“Are you asking me or making a statement?”

“Well did it sound like a question?” He asked sarcastically.

“It’s hard to tell.” Solas cocked his head to one side.

“It’s really not. Like for example now I’m asking if you’re the fucking riddler?”

“I am not.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” Sterling’s voice had raised to a bark yet Solas remained undeterred, fascinated as he was by this man.

“No. While we’re asking questions, do you know how you travelled here? Morrigan has suggested that you used the eluvian, that would have serious consequences of course, though the idea is an interesting one. Is she correct?”

“Erm no, Doc Brown. Why the hell would I travel in a Delorean when I have a Dodge Challenger?”

“You seem a little confused.”

“Well, duh.”

“Our realm is perhaps not so different to yours I think, you seem capable of clear communication and your easy acceptance of new customs would lead me to think that you have travelled to other realms also. Perhaps you’d be willing to share with me your observations of alternative universes?” Solas, with eyes bright and eager, leaned forward ready to listen to Sterling’s tales. The effect on his guest was unsettling.

“Who am I, Max Tegmark?”

“I don’t know who that is.” Solas sounded wistful.

“Labeller and follower of the multiuniverse structure? God, read a book.” Solas merely laughed at Sterling’s insult.

“Surprisingly, being ill-read is not an accusation I have faced before. There is something different, something bold about you. I think perhaps we may be alike.” Solas stared at Sterling with an effort to communicate more than simply the words passing between them.

“I don’t think so.” Again, Solas simply sighed. He tried a different tack:

“Despite some people having doubts about your integrity…”

“You mean that asshole commander?”

“For one. Despite some people having doubts, I look at you and I see honesty, bewilderment, an otherworldliness. Perhaps you did not ask to enter our realm but you must have a purpose here. I would very much like to establish what that purpose is.”

“What if there is no purpose?” Sterling gestured vaguely, his brain beginning to hurt.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, does there have to be a purpose? Things usually turn out ok without a plan.”

“Ah, so you are not aware of a higher goal or purpose. That at least answers one question.”

“Does it?”

“Well, the small quandary we find ourselves in of whether to view you as a demon or a god.”

“A God, he said omnipotently.” Sterling stood straight, voice commanding to emphasise his point.

“I’m not so sure.”

“Riddle me this then egg-head, why am I so frickin’ awesome at all these crazy shit I’ve never done before, like horse riding and strangling behemoths?”

“You do seem unnaturally talented.”

“I know, right!?”

“I have been developing a theory, a process if you will, to test the validity of your claim.”

“A God test? Shit, I didn’t realise I’d wandered into some sort of Evangelist retreat.”

“I cannot be certain that it will work and it does come with a small…cost.”

“Whatever dude, I’m in. Honestly can’t believe you’re about to prove my divinity! Wow, if this works Lana is going to freak out!” Solas, put a hand on Sterling’s shoulder to calm him a little although delighted that the man seemed amenable he wanted him to be fully aware of the conditions that would be in place.

“If you have any fears…”

“Oh I have plenty of fears, being a supreme being is not one of them. And don’t even bother with the ‘with great power comes great responsibility' bullshit it’s going to be totally worth it.”

“Well then…” Solas took a deep breath and began sweeping aside several sinister objects from the table. He removed his amulet with reverence holding it out to Sterling who jumped back knocking some glass vials clattering to the floor.

“What the hell is that? Wait, don’t answer that, I don’t think I want to know.”

“Our animal spirits have considerable power.” The elf’s eyes were darkening and the sharpened object almost glinted in the candlelight.

“Wait, hang on a minute. Animal spirits? Erm, I’d like to use my safe word now.” Sterling shifted uncomfortably, making to move.

“I did say there would be a cost.” His eyes narrowed.

“Not to my dignity.” He pushed aside Solas’s hand roughly, suddenly bored of the whole enterprise. This man was clearly mad and Sterling had gone too long without a drink.

“It will cost you sweat and tears, and perhaps... a little blood.”

“Well then forget it. I’m saving my bodily fluids for whenever I see that sexy witch woman again. Anyway I don’t remember Richard O’Brien administering any blood rituals. The worst he ever did was make you talk to Mumsey.” Sterling was already striding towards the door as if to leave. Solas leapt forward, not quite barring sterling’s way with his body. 

“Talk, yes, if you don’t want to continue the experiment we can simply talk. I’m sure you can share valuable insights about your experiences. Let us chat together a moment, my friend! There are still several hours until dawn, and I have the whole day to sleep.”

“First of all, I’m not your friend and second of all while there may be several hours until dawn, and by all means do take offence at this, chatting with you is not how I intend to spend them.” Sterling roughly shoved Solas aside, enjoying the dramatic swoosh of Dorian’s borrowed cape.

“Wait, young man. You can't escape destiny by running away ...”

“No, but I can escape your clammy mitts.” His voice trailed behind as he left Solas alone and fuming.

Returning to the hall, Sterling began to stride toward the direction he guessed the tavern was in, stopping on the way to pick up the saddlebag from his mission. He searched frantically, desperate to find his souvenir. “Shit.” He cursed, realising he’d escaped. His eyes began to scour the scene, wondering where the little fennec could have ventured to in the short time he’d left it alone.

He bounded around the hall, tipping chairs, making ladies shriek until one shriek rang out more shrilly than the others.

“Eugh, you filthy pest! What have you done?!” Leliana stood glaring at the floor by the throne.

“Hey, there you are.” Sterling ran over to retrieve his pet.

“You brought this thing in here?” Leliana was all quiet anger again, her cowl creating a startling impression of a cobra about to strike.

“Where else am I going to leave him?” 

“In the wild where it belongs, where it won’t be able to kill my precious birds!” Now Sterling looked at the fox he saw black feathers in his teeth and claws. The fox looked at him inquisitively before retrieving his kill from where it was stashed behind the throne and depositing it at his feet.

“Ah, he brought me a gift!” Sterling’s blue eyes lit up, clearly hoping to share his joy with Leliana. She scowled and crossed her arms. Sterling cleared his throat and looked at his pet again “I mean, bad Solas.” Sterling’s choice of name made Leliana forget her anger and she stifled a laugh.

“Well, I suppose it’s only acting on instinct. But, please, take it out of here. It is hardly suitable for an agent of the Inquisition to be bringing pets into the throne room.” 

“No problem.” Sterling bent to scoop up his pet “We were heading out anyway. Come on Solas, let’s get a drink.” 

He walked down the steps of the dais, Leliana watching, shaking her head as he went, not at all surprised when he stopped halfway across the hall and turned back.

“Hey, wait a minute, did you just call me an agent of the Inquisition?” 

“Yes. Congratulations, you are no longer our prisoner and we would very much appreciate your continued support.” She kept her face neutral although there was a little warmth in her lilting voice. She couldn’t help but smile when the ridiculous agent smiled back at her, making the fennec fox wave its little paw. She could see what the Inquisitor meant when she’d said…no, Leliana would not allow her thoughts to drift that way, there was work to be done. The pile of bloody, jet black feathers at her feet focused her mind once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...  
> The Nosferatu references are there but I used quotes from the film rather than referencing it explicitly to make it a little more subtle.
> 
> Hope you're still enjoying it.
> 
> The whole gang get together in the tavern next for wicked grace, romantic showdowns and the climax of the piece!


	7. Maryden sings a new song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sterling joins all the usual suspects in the tavern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for continuing to follow Sterling on his adventures through Thedas.  
> Almost at the end now, any kudos/comments very gratefully received.

“Hey, good to see you, come and join us for a pint!” Bull waved Sterling over to a table full of chargers and companions. 

“The Boss’s been talking all about your demon riding antics, you’ve earned yourself a place in the charger hall of fame.” Sterling smiled appreciatively at the attractive young soldier.

“And you are?” Sterling leant an arm against a wooden beam, looming over the stranger, dazzled by their feline features. They continued undeterred.

“Krem, one of Bull’s Chargers. Best place to be in the Inquisition if you ask me.” The words met by murmurs and clinking glasses of agreement.

“Ah, Krem de la…” Sterling began.

“Don’t even finish that thought.” Krem interrupted with a smirk. “Heard it a hundred times before, don’t ruin the image Bull’s been painting of you with a cheesy one liner like that.” Krem nudged at Sterling’s arm playfully before returning to his seat.

“Ha ha, you’ve been told.” Bull laughed at Sterling’s rejection, before tapping a stool next to him, inviting him to sit.

“Well I’m probably a little off after my encounter with Max Schreck. Vampires are my 6th biggest fear. In fact this whole escapade may force me to re-evaluate my whole fear ranking altogether.” Sterling said with a shudder.

“Who, Solas?” Varric laughed.

“Soulless more like. He is a vampire, right?”

“No, but he does suck the life out of any fun we may have here. I hope he doesn’t come looking for you, his little experiment.” Dorian teased, far less concerned about losing his armour now he was gently warmed by liquor. In fact, the idea of Sterling bounding about in his clothing was actually quite thrilling.

“Don’t worry, his kind can’t enter without an invitation.” Sterling continued, Bull slapped him on the back in approval before handing him an enormous tankard. Sterling eyed the contents suspiciously.

“What’s the problem, haven’t the stomach for it?” Bull goaded him. Sterling simply shrugged before chugging back the contents in one loud gulp followed by a showy burp. “Hey, good man!” The companions all cheered and raised their glasses too.

“That was fucking disgusting!” Sterling grimaced.

“See, I’ve been saying that for months.” Dorian agreed, raising his own glass of Antivan wine as if to demonstrate his superior taste.

“Yeah, but you don’t drink for the fine flavours, you drink to get drunk.” 

“Eugh,” Sterling sneered at the savagery of the situation “it is possible to do both.” He stood to walk to the bar, hoping he could order something a little less noxious. The chargers laughing after him as he went.

“He’s fussier than you Dorian.” Bull grinned at his lover.

“Don’t be absurd.” Dorian retorted, giving Bull a quick kiss.

At the bar, Cabot was struggling to understand what the stranger was demanding.

“Ser, if you want a screwdriver I expect you’d be best of talking to Harritt or even Dennet.”

“Fine, then I guess I’ll just have a margarita. Frozen preferably.”

“Erm…” Cabot gestured at his stock helplessly.

“God damn it, even a mimosa would do at this stage.”

“Perhaps the mages would know how to create that…” He flailed his arms a little.

“Are you serious? You are in the service industry, just think about that for a second while I stand here not being served.” Sterling glared at the man, his face aggressively shoved across the bar. Cabot did indeed think for a second, eyes perusing the various bottles at his disposal.

“Perhaps Ser would enjoy a brandy?” Cabot offered the bottle for Sterling to inspect. Sterling grabbed the bottle, ignoring the glass that was served alongside it.

“Perhaps I would, although it may be difficult to tell because I’m so disappointed in you!” With that, Sterling swept away from the bar with his bottle in hand.

As he made his way back toward the table, two elven women swung deliberately close to him, keen to encounter the stranger for themselves. He smiled at them and invited them to join him at the table.

Once he’d sat down and began necking the brandy, Archer pulled the ladies giggling into his lap – a knee each; they seemed perfectly content with the arrangement.

“So, Bull, tell these ladies how I saved your life today.” Sterling demanded with a smug grin.

“Ah, you saved his life!” One of the elves squealed running her hand over his chest. The rest of the companions watched the proceedings with amusement.

“Sure, I was a regular damsel in distress until this guy came along.” Bull said sarcastically. 

“Don’t be shitty about it just because I made you look like amateurs.”

“That’s not very nice.” The other elf pouted alluringly. Sterling took the cue to kiss her, running his hand up to toy with, what he assumed were fake, ears. The atmosphere changed almost immediately and she drew away from him, mouth open in shock.

“What?” Sterling said. The elf’s face grew redder, while the other woman squirmed in his lap.

“That…that is…” She tried to explain.

“What she’s trying to tell you is that, for an elf, playing with their ears is one of the most intimate things you can do.” Dorian informed him, interested to see how this little scene would play out.

“No way. Really?” Rather than deter him, his fingers tickled at the woman’s ears again. She gasped unsure whether she enjoyed the act again. The other elf began to laugh a little wildly, drawing Sterling’s attentions to her instead. The whole scene was becoming obscene and the first elf decided she’d had enough. She pulled away from Sterling’s lap. 

“That’s enough!” She protested turning her nose up, making as if to leave “Come on sister.”

“Sisters, wow, ok well you know where I am if you want to continue this. Unless the sister thing is weird for you. Just so you know, I’m totally into it.” The elf who’d stood already slapped him before grabbing her sister’s hand yanking her away, as the second elf was pulled away she simply whispered into Archer’s ear:

“Me too.” Eyes sparking with naughtiness as they bobbed away out of view. The rest of the companions and chargers laughed at Sterling’s abandonment although he seemed unconcerned and continued to slug back the brandy.

“Don’t be too disappointed Newbie, I think there are plenty of other women who’ve noticed your charms.” Varric said nodding over to where Cassandra and the Inquisitor stood by the fire chatting and occasionally stealing glances in their directions.

“Uh yeah, wasn’t disappointed. Galadriel and her sister can go back to Lothlorien, I have slightly different plans.” Sterling was returning each of the Inquisitor’s flirty looks with ease. 

There was a comfortable lull in the conversation as the companions all allowed their minds to soften and their muscles to relax after the exertions of the day. The crackling of the fire created a soothing, homely atmosphere often missing from the draughtier areas of Skyhold. As Sterling allowed himself to unwind a melodic sound crept into his consciousness. Beneath the chatter, clattering and chair-dragging sounds of the tavern a songstress was attempting to entertain the crowd. 

He hadn’t noticed her before, but now he did her words began to worm through to his brain:

“Simple Stranger from nowhere, of brains he’s none but the face so fair…” Sterling frowned, was she looking at him as she sung?

“They say he fights demons, say he kills hordes - do none suspect his fable’s a fraud?” The elven twins from earlier were listening by the bar, tittering at the lyrics.

“His eye invites but his tongue repels, despite his failure his ego still swells.” No. no coincidence, she was definitely staring at him as she sung.

“Hey! Shut up!” Sterling shouted over the music.

“Who are you telling to shut up?” Maryden countered, her song abruptly stopping.

“Well, you, obviously.”

“What seems to be the problem?” She asked, all mock innocence.

“That ridiculous ditty.”

“Most people enjoy my ditties!” Maryden shouted back, face screwed up in outrage.

“They what?” Sterling chuckled “Come on, phrasing? Anyone?” Bull and the chargers were laughing but it was difficult to tell whether it was Sterling or Maryden on the receiving end of the ridicule. Maryden picked up her tune where she’d left off.

“God, people.” He muttered as he left his seat.

“Tell me about it.” Sera hiccupped from the stairs, having been lured out of her room by the shouting.

Maryden began to strum her lute again, while her eyes closed and her mouth opened to sing she found her instrument being yanked out of her hands by Sterling who swiftly snapped it over his knee. While there were a few gasps, there were also more than a few cheers, mostly from Sera.

Sterling returned to his seat with the broken lute to find Sera there waiting with a drink.

“Here you go stranger, that was great! I’ve tried to shut her up with a jar of bees but nothing keeps her gob shut for long. Maybe she’ll learn to keep her piehole shut now, eh?!”

“Thanks. Talking of pies…?” Sterling realised he was incredibly hungry and began to look around for a menu. Sera giggled and held out a box to him.

“Here you go, I made them myself.”

“It’s not bees is it?” Sterling raised an eyebrow. Sera squealed with laughter.

“Ha! Bees, you nitwit. Do you know how bad that is for you? Tried it once…eurgh. Cookies. You could just say thank you.”

“Thank you, cookies sound great.” He greedily grabbed at one, Sera already had one in her hands – she nudged hers to him in a biscuity toast.

“To people yeah?”

“Sure, yeah, people.” Sterling agreed, a little puzzled as he began to eat. They were unusual but certainly not the worst thing he’d ever tasted. 

“Oh no, you’ve not been baking again?” The Inquisitor’s voice sounded behind Sterling. Sera just giggled and offered her the box.

“They’re really not that bad.” Sterling commented through mouthfuls as he reached for another. 

“See,” Sera looked incredibly proud of the compliment “maybe you should give my cookies another go.” She stuck her tongue out at the Inquisitor.

“I guess it’d be rude not to.” She agreed. Sterling held his half eaten cookie out for the Inquisitor to take a bite, her face blushing at the sudden and very public intimacy. She bit down, crumbs spilling over her wet lips, Sterling instinctively tracing his finger over the trail.

The door to the tavern swung open letting a gust of the cold, mountain air swirl over the regulars as Cullen entered. Or rather just stood in the doorway looking. The Inquisitor gulped, of course this would be the moment that he’d choose to arrive. Of course it bloody would.

“Ha! Awkward!” Sera cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, guess you can imagine where this is leading?  
> 1 or 2 more chapters to go for Cullen and Sterling to fight it out. There'll be wicked grace, more drinking and perhaps even a few more ISIS employees making an appearance before the end.
> 
> As always kudos/comments/ suggestions very welcome :)


	8. Wicked Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group gather for a special round of Wicked Grace...and another game Sterling suggests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long to publish. I really struggled to keep all the characters ticking over and am trying to pull all the strands together.
> 
> Also, Sterling makes one homophobic comment as I felt that it was in character but apologies for any offence.
> 
> Please any comments/kudos very welcome.

Cullen quickly recovered his composure striding towards the group, closely followed by Josephine who had her own score to settle with Varric. 

Cullen feigned indifference at the blushing scene and spoke generally:

“I’ve come to see how you are Bull, heard you’d been injured.”

“That’s good of you Cullen, appreciate it.” Bull waved the Commander over to an empty stool.

“If he can’t stand up to shake your hand it’s got nothing to do with his injury and everything to do with that dragon’s piss he’s been swilling since we returned.” Dorian mocked.

“Either way he’s legless.” Sterling joked, somewhat alleviating the tension he’d created.

Cabot had been turning patrons out of the tavern since before Cullen arrived and now fretted over whether he’d ever get this group to leave.

“Do you think you could…?” Cabot began, gesturing to the door.

“Lock up after ourselves?” Varric responded “Of course.” 

Cabot shrugged, there was no way he could argue with the Inquisitor setting up camp with her own friends. 

“Just, please, I don’t mind what you get up to…” Cabot began, frowning.

“I should think not!” Josephine scoffed.

“But, please, I don’t know whose pants those were but I had a hard time explaining it to my wife so…just bear that in mind.” He looked almost as embarrassed as Cullen, as he turned on his heel and quickly fled.

With Iron Bull slapping Cullen hard on the back and the rest of their companions squealing with laughter, Sterling quickly caught on.

“So the Commander goes commando? Can’t help but think that’s a bad idea in all that metal.”

“It’s not a regular occurrence!” Cullen shot back, for a moment forgetting his suspicions about the man in the general merriment.

“Regular enough I’d say!” Sera snorted, pulling her face into an exaggerated expression of disgust.

“The only way to avoid further embarrassment is to get better at the game.” Varric needled. It was the only invitation anyone else needed as seats were shuffled and coins jangled. 

As places were taken at the table, Sterling hastily claimed the empty seat beside the Inquisitor. From his seat opposite the pair, Cullen eyed Sterling coldly.

“Do you think it’s wise to have the prisoner in our midst while we relax our guard?” It was a pathetic excuse to try to get rid of the man and he knew it.

“I’d say he’s more than proved himself capable of matching us on the battlefield, now let’s see if he can match us here.” Dorian said with a wink.

The Inquisitor attempted to soothe the situation: “I was brought to you as a prisoner too remember?” If Cullen had felt any objection rising in his throat it was caught by her eyes seeking his beseechingly.

“The Inquisitor does have a point.” Cassandra added.

“Yeah Barry.” Sterling snarked “I…sorry, thinking of someone else.”

“Well, let us begin then. Dealer goes first.” Jospehine shuffled the cards with her elegant fingers. 

As cards began to be dealt, money was strewn on the table, when it got to Sterling he seemed at a loss.

“See here’s the thing, I don’t have any cash and I haven’t seen an ATM anywhere and I’m assuming you guys don’t work on an honour system?”

“You’d assume right. You pay or you don’t play.” Iron Bull was relaxed about most things in life but gambling he took seriously.

“Right so...?” Sterling began to look apprehensive until he looked at his cards and chuckled “Oh ok, play on, I don’t think I’ll have anything to worry about.”

“Wow, his poker face is even worse than yours Seeker!” Varric laughed at Cassandra who merely snorted at him.

The first game went swiftly, Sterling continually driving up the stakes until only he and Cullen remained. The atmosphere was tense, not least because several members of the group were looking forward to either men losing their shirts. Well, more than their shirts.

At the deadlock, Josephine interceded.

“Well, gentleman, reveal your hands.”

Cullen laid his down first, with a quiet confidence: a full house.

Sterling laid his down with a less than quiet confidence. The group peered at the cards quizzically.

“Erm, a bowl, a sword and three stick things?” He announced.

“Well done Commander!” Josephine swept the collection of coins toward him.

“I believe there was more at stake than this.” Cullen prompted.

“Fine, pervert.” Sterling began to wrestle at the cape.

“All of it.” The Inquisitor demanded, then immediately regretted her eagerness “I mean, that was three hands so three layers.” She cleared her throat.

“That’s hardly fair – what is this Christian Grey’s onesie?” Sterling pouted as he tugged at the various straps of Dorian’s borrowed clothes until he was basically naked. 

Cullen immediately smiled and returned the clothes to Dorian, somewhat impressed with Sterling’s sporting attitude. A few of the group, moved to help themselves from the bar, re-evaluate their finances as Josephine collected the cards and began shuffling ready for the next game.

“What did you think we were playing?” Varric laughingly asked of Sterling.

“Uno?” he replied, shifting uncomfortably on the wooden stool.

“You seemed so confident.” Krem goaded him.

“That’s just bluffing 101.”

“It’s not exactly bluffing if it doesn’t help you.”

“Oh I wouldn’t say it hasn’t helped me.” Sterling smirked. It hadn’t escaped his notice that several pairs of eyes were appraising his bare flesh. He turned to the Inquisitor who was squinting at his shoulders.

“What?” He asked.

“Your Vallaslin.”

“My what?” Sterling began to shift uncomfortably.

“These.” She lightly traced the tattooed words with her fingertips across his shoulders. “What do they represent?”

“Err, poor judgement mainly. One is for my son, Seamus; the other is for my slave, erm, butler’s dead brother. And believe me I know exactly how weird that sounds.”

“You have a son?” Cassandra asked.

“Yeah. Can you believe it, a son of God and she called it Seamus?”

“Seamus. Sounds Dalish.” Sera nodded.

“Sounds pretty gay actually but that’s not really a surprise I suppose, considering who his father really is…”

Her voice startling the players who’d not heard her arrival, Lady Morrigan appeared at the table.

“May I wager a hand?”

“Lady Morrigan! Didn’t see you arrive, of course. You know how to play?” Josephine gestured that Morrigan should take a seat. She did so nodding to the collected party.

“Of course.”

“Erm, I have nothing left to wager.” Sterling frowned.

“You have that.” Morrigan pointed below the table, earning a gasp from a few of the group.

“Wow! I mean, usually I’d be all for it but it does seem kind of sacrilegious. But, hey, if Zeus could…”

“Not that. That.” Morrigan’s hand rested on Sterling’s wrist under the table lifting it to show the rest of the group his watch.

“Shit, no. That’s the Omicron Spymaster!” He snatched it back, more offended than if she’d genuinely expected him to bet with his body. The rest of the group were now settled, ready to continue, he bowed to the pressure, with a sigh discarding his watch into the pile.

“Excellent.” Josephine chirped, as the cards were hastily distributed once again.

This time, Sterling’s loud confidence made the group nervous; they simply couldn’t read him and in accommodating the new stranger, their usual tells and patterns were slipping until each of the group slowly shed one or two items of clothing. Nothing too revealing but all the same creating an exciting buzz. Seemingly more focused than usual, Cullen clenched his jaw and eyed the collection of loot already on the table. 

“Do you need some courage?” Sterling teased him.

“Not at all, just assessing the odds.” He fidgeted, knowing he had no more coin to spare and that it was altogether too ridiculous that he should lose his clothes once again to this game. He had a difficult choice now between relinquishing his pants or his favourite cloak.

“Oh dear, it seems the commander may have to fold.” Josephine crooned, this made his decision. He unclasped the fur mantle from his shoulders, slinging it to the pile. There were gasps, Cole’s voice drifting over:

“I didn’t know…”

“Of course you did Kid, remember last time?” Varric interrupted.

“Unlike last time, I am determined not to lose my dignity altogether.” Cullen said.

The two men held each other’s stares for a moment, until Cullen conceded and folded his cards.

Sterling whooped, punching the air before laying his own cards down. An urn, a sword and three staffs. Exactly the same cards as he’d played before.

“Ha! Look on my works ye mighty and despair!” For a man who was sat naked in front of a group of strangers, Sterling certainly looked at ease.

“Now, that’s bluffing!” Varric cheered him. As Sterling began to gather his winnings, he noticed Cullen’s brow furrowing when his hands reached the fur mantle. As Sterling secured the cloak around his shoulders, he reached out a hand and poked Cullen’s nose, with an accompanying ‘boop’ sound that immediately created a growl in his victim’s throat.

“Hey Curly, I tried to warn you.” Varric commiserated. 

“I don’t understand.” Cullen muttered. He’d been counting the cards carefully. As Sterling gleefully counted his winnings, and basked in the admiration of his companions Cullen watched Morrigan’s fingers slide under the table before slyly retrieving some discarded cards, easily placed into the pack. He opened his mouth to speak but then stopped when he saw Morrigan grin at the Inquisitor who just bit her lip. 

Sterling stood, now naked except for Cullen’s fur cloak and made his way to the bar, with the rest of the group following him. Finding his way easily behind the bar, Sterling began to mix the mysterious ingredients.

“What are you doing?” Cullen leant over whispering to him.

“Trying to create a half decent cocktail with a woefully understocked bar.” Sterling busied himself with the bottles. 

“I find it hard to believe that you find the bar understocked,” Dorian stated, lolling against the counter “We seem to spend an inordinate amount of time on the road tracking down rare vintages. But perhaps they don’t make their way out of the Inquisitor’s private cellar.”

“Not all.” The Inquisitor winked.

Once Sterling had finished mixing, he poured the drinks liberally for the entire group all the time watched closely by Cullen.

“What do you call this?” The Inquisitor sniffed the drink tentatively.

“Erm, an Iron Throne.” Sterling declared, creating an impromptu toast with his companions. As they made their way back to their seats with their potent cocktails, Sterling caught The Inquisitor’s elbow: “You know, maybe later we could visit the throne?”

“If you wish? You want me to judge you again?” The Inquisitor flirted easily, although the words were oddly meaningless.

“Sure, but this time maybe wait until you’ve experience the full performance before you pass any judgment. I’m sure you’ll find yourself more than satisfied.”

“Eurgh. If you want to do it with her just say, you sound like a right idiot prattling about thrones. She’s not the new Divine, she’s just a person” Sera sneered from her perch on a high stool, the Inquisitor immediately flushing and darting back to her seat. 

Sterling reached out, pushing Sera to the floor in a noisy topple before refilling his tankard.

Sera, unhurt from her tumble, giggled crazily and staggered back to the table. Sterling had almost forgotten that Cullen was still watching him. When Sterling offered him a conciliatory drink, Cullen grasped the opportunity to question him.

“What are your intentions?”

“Oh hello, Regency England called they want their rigid social etiquette back.”

“Do not mock me ser.” Cullen had drawn threateningly close. Suddenly, Sterling became aware of how close their nearly naked bodies were and brought his hands up to create a small barrier.

“Look buddy, I have no intentions towards you at all, not even naked fireside wrestling if that’s what this is about. You know Oliver Reed had to drink two bottles of vodka straight up before he even attempted that. Sorry to disappoint you Simba.”

“Not your intentions toward me. Maker’s breath.” Cullen ran a hand through his hair, unable to vocalise his fears. Sterling watched with something close to sympathy, eventually catching on.

“Look, I get it. So you want to bang your boss? Right? We’ve all been there. Well not me obviously, that’s just " Sterling shuddered "but I can’t blame you. Why don’t you just do it?”

“She’s…I…I don’t think it’s appropriate that we…” Cullen blushed.

“That we…stand here rubbing cocks while talking about woman of your dreams? Yeah. I’d say the fact that she’s been engineering the game just so she can see you naked suggests she's not that fussed about sexual harassment in the work place."

“Reallly?” Cullen looked at him earnestly.

“Hakuna Matata.” Sterling shrugged.

“What does that mean?”

“Are you serious? It means no worries for the rest of your days.” 

“Thank you, that’s very…kind.” Cullen smiled one of his crooked smiles.

“Now stop being such a pussy and do something about it or I will.” Sterling pushed Cullen away looking as if he meant it. Before laughing to himself “Pussy. Can’t believe I didn’t think of that one sooner.”

When they arrived at the table, Josephine began shuffling the cards again despite the fact that it was obvious the players were growing poorer and drunker.

“Hey, I have a game!” Sterling announced, putting his drink down noisily.

“Wonderful. A new game from your brave new world!” Morrigan smiled.

“Who am I, John the Savage? This game doesn’t need any betting, we’re all in it together and you have to tell the truth. That’s the only rule.”

“Oh dear, could be a little tricky for some of us.” Varric said.

“At least Blackwall’s not here.” Cassandra replied.

“What’s it called?” The Inquisitor asked, distancing herself a little from Sterling now she’s heard Sera’s crude interpretation of their burgeoning friendship.

“Never Have I Ever.” Sterling announced. “You tell us something you’ve never done and all the people who have done it take a drink. No comments, no judgement. Just keep it moving. I assume you all know each other pretty well anyway so I can’t see how this could possibly go wrong. He said, sarcastically.”

“I’m in.” Josephine led the agreements.

“Why don’t you start then, Lady Ambassador.” Cullen prompted.

“Let me see now. Never have I ever…

******************************

And so the confessions flitted round the circle. Thus it was that the group discovered that Cole had become far more human than they’d realised; Varric really did an awful lot of research for his ‘Swords and Shields’ novels and that there was a reason Cassandra kept her hair short. No one could really hold Iron Bull’s gaze anymore and Dorian was charmingly surprised that he wasn’t the most sexually adventurous member of the group.

And some of the side effects of Templar training, well…

It was Sterling’s turn again and he looked directly at Cullen when he spoke:

“Never have I ever been hopelessly in love with my boss and too shit scared to do anything about it.” Sterling dared. With all eyes pinned on Cullen, nobody seemed to notice Krem taking a shy sip of his still full pint of Iron Throne. 

Without missing his cue, Cullen looked at the Inquisitor and downed the remains of his drink with a noisy gulp. The group erupted in cheers as he stood and offered the Inquisitor his hand across the table. They began to move away from the table, their friends spurring them on, the game apparently over. 

“Never have I ever cared for anyone as I care for you.” Cullen spoke sincerely, his voice suddenly confident now he found his feelings apparently returned. 

“Yeah, that’s not exactly how it works.” Sterling heckled, both Cullen and the Inquisitor smiled at him before turning their gazes back to each other. There were plenty more ‘never have I evers’ to explore.

“This would be kind of romantic if you weren’t stood in just your pants.” Varric laughed. Sterling smiled gratified with his efforts. That, and the hand that had been caressing his thigh for the better part of half an hour. Morrigan looked at him with warmth for the small favour he’s just bestowed on the group before rising from her place and retreating to the shadows.

“I think it that was very romantic.” Josephine sighed “But, you know, that game could be very useful in the right company.”

“How are we not the right company?” Dorian pouted, though he knew exactly what she meant.

Bull and Dorian moved to take their leave, Bull once again slapping Sterling on the back:

“Nice work.” 

“I like that game Newbie,” Varric began as he moved toward the door “Although I don’t think Cassandra’s going to forgive me for –ow!”

“Silence dwarf!” Cassandra admonished him with a playful smack before sauntering away, Varric following with excitement, remembering some of her earlier confessions.

Sterling sat alone at the table, suddenly unsure as to where to go. He’d slept the previous night in a prison cell, he certainly didn’t want to return there. 

“The game will end, must end, then it’s back. Back to her, back to the control and fear. Unless I never go back, never see her again. Mother doesn’t love me, doesn’t miss me, doesn’t need me for anything good. Always seeks control, always interferes.”

“I warn you child, never tread unbidden into my mind. You may not like what you find.” Morrigan spun on Cole.

“I didn’t Lady Morrigan. I know better than to ignore your threats” Remembering the time he’d seen her transform into a raven. “It’s him. Duchess.” Cole pointed a shaky finger at Sterling, sat nursing his ale, still draped in Cullen’s mantle. From their darkened corner, Cole and Morrigan watched Sterling frowning into his drink, muttering discontentedly about a bed.

“Really? How intriguing.” She gazed at him again. Perhaps he had stepped through the Eluvian just for her. A partner from another realm, part of a bigger plan. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing she’d ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it.  
> Please let me know - comments/kudos very, very gratefully received!
> 
> One more chapter to go...


	9. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sterling wakes up in a strange bed. It wouldn't be the first time.  
> Sterling wakes up with a witch who wishes to learn more about his 'realm'.  
> Yep, that's a first.
> 
> The consequences of Sterling's actions in Skyhold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, last chapter of this fun little tale.
> 
> I really hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have enjoyed imagining my favourite secret agent becoming an Inquisition agent.
> 
> Please any comments/kudos will be very gratefully received.

Sterling woke for once without the sound of an alarm, without the smell of Woodhouse’s eggs, without the crushing feeling of loneliness. For a moment he felt relaxed, if extremely cold. He turned to reach for a blanket and his smile broadened. 

He was treated to the sight of long, pale limbs tangled in the sheets, raven hair splayed across the pillow and an elegant back curving temptingly towards him. The red spank mark of a broken lute on her backside. His hand shot out immediately to grab it, he was met by the witch turning on him and fixing him with her golden eyes.

She seemed to be evaluating the situation briefly, before a smile tugged at the corners of her own mouth and she rolled towards him.

“Good morrow Duchess.” She purred.

“I’m not totally on board with that nickname by the way, but yes indeed it is a good morrow.”

Morrigan took his easy tone as an invitation to continue the previous night’s proceedings and she twisted effortlessly over him until she was straddling his lap. She leant in to kiss him, a kiss which he eagerly reciprocated, while considering how best to phrase her next question.

“I would like to learn more of your realm, if you are amenable.” She began.

“I don’t know how much more of my realm there is for you to discover after last night.” Sterling gripped her hips, pulling her closer to him.

“I mean to discover more of your background, how you came to us here.” Morrigan whispered close to his ear. “The Eluvian fascinates me, and if you are indeed able to transport yourself from this world t’other perhaps we could make your visitations more frequent or I could journey with you?”

“Erm yeah, I mean of course I’ll call.” Sterling lied. Morrigan laughed a little, it would appear that Sterling would need a little more coaxing to reveal the secrets of his world. 

She began to coax him with her tongue when she froze, distracted by a high pitched musical tone. She looked around the room, while Sterling’s hand shuffled through the sheets.

“What is that strange noise?” Morrigan asked with wonder as Sterling found his phone.

“Wow, I have signal!” Sterling exclaimed, Morrigan had stilled her movements, fascinated by the strange device. Sterling immediately missed the heat of her body moving against his: “No, don’t stop I can do both.”

Rather than continue, Morrigan retrieved the phone from the bed where it lay, bringing it closer to her to examine it. On the large screen, Malory Archer’s unimpressed face flashed periodically.

Both their voices cried out: “Mother!” 

Closely followed by: “What?” 

Closely followed by a mutual feeling of disgust and confusion. 

***************************************************

Jim stood shivering on the highest wall of Skyhold. He was sure Commander Cullen had it in for him, first the earliest shift, then ignoring his pleas about vertigo, now given responsibility for watching for any sign of the prisoner/intruder/agent…whoever the hell that jerk who shot him was supposed to be.

As he rubbed his knee, imagining the ache, his eyes lazily scanned the courtyard. They quickly did a double take as he thought he saw the Commander stalk across the training ground, Jim gulped; he’d be in trouble for having missed him slipping past before he squinted and realised it was the new jerk. Shit, he thought, he really would be in trouble now.

He instinctively leant forward to get a better look, the height immediately setting his head swimming. He swallowed down his nausea, preparing to move when he noticed Lady Morrigan pacing after his target. The fact that she was almost running was alarming, he’d never seen her move faster than a saunter and she looked like she had a slight limp.

That did it, he had to inform Cullen if Lady Morrigan was indeed injured. 

Jim quickly found himself at the Commander’s office door, knuckles raised to knock when he heard some muffled cry from within. He barged in to the office, perhaps saving the Commander would redeem him somehow, and began explaining himself:

“Commander, the target has…”

Jim barrelled backwards, a pillow smacking him in the face accompanied by a barked: “Get out!”

Jim fairly ran across the battlements, his fear of heights no longer the most troubling thing paining his imagination as his brain made sense of the scene he’d just witnessed…how was he ever going to look at the Inquisitor again? Fuck it, he thought, may as well start applying for a transfer to Griffon Keep.

By the time he was back at his original post, The Jerk and Lady Morrigan were entering the gardens, arms flailing wildly. Well, he’d tried to warn the Commander, what else could he do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all comments/kudos :)
> 
>  
> 
> Could not resist an epilogue...


	10. The Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sterling's work colleagues are less than impressed with his disappearance, and even less than less than impressed with his explanation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks readers - just a short little epilogue to allow ISIS to respond to Sterling's strange adventure.
> 
> This was probably the hardest part of the whole fic, so any feedback/comments/kudos are very, very welcome.

In a brownstone mansion somewhere ….

A small, frightened woman stands in front of a large, ornate mirror. She knows her home is haunted, always hears voices, especially in this room, especially by this mirror.

She’s feeling brave today, brave enough to tempt spirits to appear. In the past she’s attempted séances, Ouija boards, even invited Derek Accora into her home but to no avail. 

So today, in front of the mirror she makes a desperate attempt:

“Candyman….Candyman…Candyman…ARGGHHHHH!” 

Cheryl doesn’t get to the fifth, or even the fourth recitation before a figure appears shimmering in the mirror, the surface doesn’t shatter, merely darkens and ripples as a man emerges. Cheryl doesn’t wait to see if Candyman has a hook hand, instead she runs screaming from the room. 

The ISIS team quickly appear in the gloomy attic room, the immediate excitement dying when they see Sterling.

“For the love of…” Malory’s complaint stops when she sees Sterling before her in what can only be described as inferior nutria. “Sterling! Where the hell have you been?”

“In some kind of Freudian nightmare thanks to you!”

“What? How is this my fault?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you have a multitude of neglected children in parallel universes whose souls you eat just to stay in control?!” Sterling’s eyes are wide with fury. 

“Wow, Archer, even for you this sounds pretty crazy.” Lana intercedes. 

“Shut up” Sterling directs at Lana, and she immediately remembers why she didn’t really miss him. “Mother, please tell me there’s no chance that you’re a time travelling abomination…”

“Meh, who knows. I’ve been called a lot worse.” Malory shrugs, clinking the ice in her half consumed Tom Collins although her eyes squint suspiciously and she quickly searches for something to divert attention:

“And where is your Omicron Spymaster watch, Mister?” She yanks Sterling’s wrist, scowling at him when he doesn’t reply: “This is why you can’t have nice things.”

“Are you shitting me? I’ve been gone like, a week…”

“Phew, please, a week. Try 24hrs, not even long enough to file a missing person’s report.”

“Which, as we know from past experience, you’d never actually bother doing.” Lana rolls her eyes as she speaks.

“Ok, so supposing for a moment you actually give a shit, doesn’t the fact that I’ve come back looking like…”

“A PETA commercial?”

“Bother you? And you’re just bitching because a witch stole my watch?”

“Which witch?” Lana again tries to unravel the mystery of Sterling’s disappearance.

“Firstly, it’s what and second of all, does it actually frickin’ matter seeing as she exists on the other side of a fucking otherworldly portal?!”

“Ok, so when you’re done yelling at me for no apparent reason, do you want to just tell me what happened?”

“You’ve seen ‘A Conneticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court’?”

“Umm?”

“Well… basically… that.”

“Great. And there’s no chance that you could have just, I don’t know drank far too much and gambled away your belongings?” Lana raises an eyebrow at him.

“It wouldn’t exactly be the first time.” Cyril joins with the general scepticism in the room.

“Fine, be like that Cyril Sneer. But I am warning you there are other worlds in there and more importantly in those worlds I am a god damned…erm…god.”

“So you travelled through space and time to meet a vastly inferior race, what a pity.”

“Agree that I’m a god or I’ll get Old Testament on your ass.” Sterling holds Cyril by the scruff of his collar to add to the threat; the threat is slightly undermined by Sterling's ridiculous garments.

“I absolutely do not agree to that. There is no way you can prove to be a god; neither can I prove otherwise.”

“Great, Dawkins your way out of it you…humanist.” Cyril shakes his head at Sterling’s poor rebuff.

Suddenly, Malory squeals: “What the hell is that?!”

“Solas!” Sterling cries, scooping the stowaway into his arms. 

“Great, another filthy hybrid escaped from Kreiger’s lab.”

“Where?” Kreiger shouts, hand immediately clutching his tranquiliser gun.

“Solas isn’t a filthy hybrid. At least, this Solas isn’t. It’s a fennec fox, one of only 3 exotic pets legal in the US. Do you hear that Cheryl? Actually legal unlike poor Babou.” Although Sterling's words are defensive of his pet, the creature struggles and claws at him drawing blood from a gash on his cheek.

“Right, well considering you seem to think you’re the new Dr. Samuel Beckett, have you considered maybe using the portal to travel back to a time before you made this mistake, or indeed any of the catalogue of disasters you’ve created?” Lana asks, crossing her hands across her chest.

“Don’t be ridiculous Lana.”

“I’m ridiculous!?”

“Every idiot knows you can’t mess with the space time continuum, that’s like the first lesson of physics.”

“So, I’m the idiot.”

“Duh.”

“I’m not the one stood there in one of Anna Wintour’s cast offs wrestling a feral fox!”

“It’s pronounced ‘fennec’.”

“I’m aware of that; I’m telling you it’s feral.” Lana tilts her hear indicating Solas clawing at the curtains.

"No, bad Solas."

While the ISIS crew begin filing from the room, Sterling puts his hand on Lana’s shoulder to pull her back toward the mirror.

“Sterling!” She resists.

“What? I want you to see. Here be dragons.” Sterling’s confused expression simply reflects back at him as he paws with increasing frustration at the surface of the mirror. From the doorway, Malory pulls a satisfied grin accompanied by a sigh of relief before vanishing once again.

Lana turns to leave also, with Sterling still scrabbling at the mirror.

“Lana. Lana. Lana. LANA!”

“What!”

“If you leave without permission, I will smite you.”

“Right!” Lana snorts, before leaving.

Sterling watches dejectedly from the doorway, his only comfort his new pet who has also slunk away to forage in Kreiger’s lab.

“So if you stuck your…arm in there it’d just wiggle about in some other world?” Pam’s voice asks from the mirror, where she’s gazing in wonder.

“I guess.” Sterling responds without looking.

“Like a glory hole?” 

“No Pam, on no account stick….any part of your body into that mirror. There are literally monsters in there.”

“I believe you.” Pam protests, Sterling scrutinises her face for a moment before checking:

“You do?”

“Nah.”

“Idiot.”

**********************

Back in her makeshift office, an iridescent screen begins to form shapes. The shape is pointed, at least around what seem to be ears. Eventually a face appears. Malory comes as close to smiling as she will ever get before addressing the Nosferatu lookalike in the surface before her:  
“Hello again, old friend.”


End file.
